


Public Affairs

by airotsa



Category: Dracula & Related Fandoms, Dracula (TV 2020)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-18
Updated: 2020-03-18
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:15:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23196130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/airotsa/pseuds/airotsa
Summary: Princes amongst the undead, that's the legacy behind their names and two parties on winter's solstice is where all their subjects gather for hours of fun and debauchery.The first merely a formality with the humans, the second a true celebration at Castle Dracula.If only it could be just that... Politics have always been too taxing on the Countess, even if they are just a game for the Count.-Set in Timme Immemorial's universe.-
Relationships: Dracula/Agatha Van Helsing
Comments: 5
Kudos: 17





	Public Affairs

**Author's Note:**

  * For [emimuart](https://archiveofourown.org/users/emimuart/gifts).



> Author's note: OMG DARLING I AM SO SO SO SORRY IT TOOK ME THUS LONG. DO FORGIVE ME. 
> 
> This is from Time Immemorial's universe, a gift for solving a riddle on an early chapter.

_PUBLIC AFFAIRS._

It’s not that she dreaded the foundation’s annual ball, it’s that… no, that would be a blatant lie, Countess Agatha dreaded that fateful night, where all known Vampires communed with the unsuspecting humans that served as sponsors and the latest heir from Mina’s line that held the position of utmost power.

It was impressive to them how the bloodline had deteriorated, but people like their late daughter and her handsome husband rarely came along.

Instead, now they just made sure the shady part of what they started was contained and that the good it did was a vast as they expected it to be, as they knew it could.

Manoeuvring people from the shadows was something they were good at and they refused to shy away from violence when needed, tainting the legacy of their late child would be impossible while they roamed this green and blue earth.

On the other hand, thank God the two races didn’t mingle for much, after three very complicated cover-ups regarding the younger members of the Turned, they just grazed the human’s side of the party for polite chatter before taking their leave for their castle in the country.

There the real event was hosted, with almost all of the attendees enjoying themselves so much it was common practice for all the rooms in the property to be occupied come noon.

After those incidents it had been a popular consensus to create boarding schools to teach the ones they created to behave, giving the innate teachers something to do, too, also to not lose themselves into the drug that insanity was.

As a whole, they were tired of losing so many, tired of the ghosts and the echoes of whom they had known.

Time was never an easy burden when you held eternity within your fingers.

Still, that didn’t mean they would accept just anyone among them, both of the perceived monarchs had a firm grip on how much their numbers were allowed to grow and the vast majority agreed with them. Especially the Conclave of the Blessed, those who were the best among them.

They might have evolved in their biased beliefs but money was a more powerful faith than many and expanding their lines was very, very costly.

Of the five trials they had had since the formation of the Council, four subjects were annihilated. Their laws were few and just, so disobedience often meant death. Such measures ensuring that in the last eighty years it had only happened five times, even when one of their kind fed twice a week and their real number was a hundred and seventy.

It also helped, that no one, no matter how comfortable they felt in their dead skins, thought it a good experiment to test the things they both were capable of, the ruthlessness of their two Princes, the oldest Vampire alive and the most powerful amongst the nine.

Especially so when the love their kind had for them was a born from real affection and respect, both earned time and time again when someone had needed their help or counsel, which was often. Finding two genuinely caring people, if sharp-tongued.

Their trip from the busy city to the country in one night would have been inconvenient before but as automobiles became ever more efficient it was just a forty-minute drive from London to Castle Dracula. Her husband and she couldn’t really say they missed carriages or ships, dreadfully boring and uncomfortable things that they had been, he had always promised her the future would bring wonders and it had.

Of course that the improvements on the machinery only encouraged Dracula to buy a Rolls Royce or a Mercedes whenever he felt like it, to her great annoyance and the suffering of their accountant.

She was applying lipstick when he came into the bathroom, dressed in a sleek black suit and waistcoat; the latter was something he had refused to give up even in the seventies, claiming that it didn’t matter to him if everyone else had lost their taste in fine attire, that still then he wouldn’t dress in costly rags.

He was about to open his mouth when she turned her head sharply to glare at him, her blue fingernails pointing at his chest, “If you think that I’ve forgiven you for tossing my nice pair of low heels in the rubbish, the ones that I was going to use today, which you already knew, you are _very_ wrong. I don’t care that today I woke up to seven pairs of Loui Vuitton’s.”

“Agatha, dear, I love you, but I tower over you and even as the Queen of Vampires you’re still considerably short next to your King. I don’t like it when they joke that I married my firstborn daughter.” He explained, moving to the side when a hairbrush flew out the door and collided violently with the wall.

“Next is your collection of Rolexes in the sewers.” The Count raised his hand in surrender and advanced towards her, helping her on to her dress when she extended her hand for support.

It was a gorgeous thing of midnight blue silk with a high neckline and low back, embroidered at the bottom with mockingbirds the size of her digit, it seemed to sparkle against the light, making her look more ethereal than normal. Her hair in a low bun that complimented it, a complex style that had taken her two hours to put together, leaving, in the end, a few ringlets of chocolate hair loose so they framed her face prettily, her face with the bare minimum of makeup.

Agatha thanked him with a peck to his bearded cheek before he turned to leave, then she tidied up the bathroom and left for the master bedroom. She sat at the edge of the bed waiting for him to get the car so they could leave and went over the texts she had exchanged earlier in the evening with one of the nine, a sassy, blunt and somewhat cynical Latina woman that had grown to be her closest, undead friend.

_Maria Teresa: “How many pairs?”_

_Agatha: “Seven.”_

_Maria Teresa: “He’s so awful!!! There’s no other choice but a dramatic divorce where he drunkenly begs you to stay, weeping the whole time. Stop complaining, he probably just wants you to use them whilst in bed... I’m also sure he’d approve of me selling the pictures of him crying to the French CEO that he punched last year for almost kissing you. He’s a sucker for proper capitalism.”_

_Agatha: “He broke his nose and his cheekbone and we only avoided being sued thanks to my quick thinking, so he wouldn’t like it AT ALL and you would know everything about that, it was Alice Cooper that chained you to the bed like that, was it not? I recall you had to break metal with bare hands when you idiots lost the key, apart from flashing the hotel’s staff in your high and getting arrested for it… Guess who still has the mugshot?”_

_Maria Teresa: “If only I had taken a picture of you making out with the fuhrer I’d have leverage, alas, claws back, Dr Van Helsing and the rest of the community thinks it’s him that the intense one in the marriage, the delusion! Anyways see you later at Castle Dracula (Non-insanity inducing version).”_

The Countess rolled her eyes, standing up to grab her coat when she heard the _‘honk, honk, honk’_ that came from their car, the false fur was soft against her hands and with a graceful movement she put it on.

She descended the stairs, her new shoes _‘taking’_ loudly against the marble.

With the door was firmly locked and the alarm activated with her thumb they took off into the night.

╌

When they arrived every eye was on them, some years ago it bothered her to the point that she excused herself from all human events; it seemed mortals had a tendency, a sixth sense of sorts for spotting them, something inside whispered in their minds that those people could tear them apart with bare hands. Warnings dismissed as senseless paranoia.

She became used to it, bored of isolation.

The many hands she had to shake became a blur, her nostrils overwhelmed from all the scents that belonged to the individuals that greeted the famed Dr Van Helsing and her charming husband, who they believed to be a businessman of sorts.

Unremarkable in their majority, they’d make for quick snacks and she’d rather not change the quality of her diet.

They gathered in a semi-circle, murmurs already brewing of what their boss was going to say to them and the news. The announcement of the scientifical advances and the disclosure of how much exactly was changed in the world that year, the original purpose of the firm they worked for.

Sir Ian approached them, a mischievous glint in his face, “Your Highnesses,” He whispered, the corner of his mouth turning up.

“Sir Ian.” The brunette acknowledged.

“Old man.” Teased the Count.

“If my numbers don’t fail me, you’ve three centuries and a half on me.” Remarked the man with narrowed eyes.

“At least I don’t look it.” Bragged Dracula.

“Children.” She hissed, effectively shutting them up.

It was a long thing, full of unnecessary details, and exaggerated facts but it served well enough to boost morale before they left in two weeks for the holidays. Which really was the purpose of the whole thing.

Midway through she sensed the boredom of her husband and her friend, bracing herself for their unrestrained mouths.

“At least she isn’t blabbering on about still looking at the clues of who exactly were Mina’s parents and the founders.” The white-haired man quipped.

“Not that any clues exist.” He asserted.

“What about the original paperwork?” The man prodded, an eyebrow raised in defiance.

“You underestimate how easy it was to bribe the Monarchy before Queen Victoria.” He pointed out.

“Still, they can’t possibly be as thick to buy the history that you just happen to share a last name as uncommon-” He groaned, indignant.

“That woman was absolutely dull to speak with, so submissive to Albert and resentful towards her children. The grandmother of Europe my arse, nothing but incest there, look how good it did so many royal families.” Intervened the Doctor, who had always had many harsh opinions of her own after staying with the Monarch for a week.

“Her only good legacy is Queen Elizabeth the II and her father, King George the VI.” She concluded.

The Westergaard-Murray girl was just finishing her speech when Dorian approached her, green eyes shining with malice, the incarnation of discord, brewing conflict wherever he went for the sake of amusement.

Sir Ian left as soon as possible, as well as her husband, deserting her on taking the man child head-on.

He offered her a glass of bubbly champagne and she accepted, having finished with her previous one, “It’s incredible how all the women have never given up the name, even replacing that of their husbands when they have kids.”

“Hello to you too, alas, the inheritance isn’t legally theirs if they do and let’s be honest those men never work a day in their life after the nuptials. Mina didn’t agree with us, but there was no changing our minds.” She commented, taking a sip and staring at the blonde that shook hands with everyone around her.

Dracula came back from talking to a French envoy who could get them access to Notre Dame’s Vault, where they were planning on stealing texts that talked in detail about the First’s mortal life, at least it wasn’t in the Vatican archives, those were a pain to break into.

“Count Dracula, how good it is to see you! Have you seen the new adaptation? It’s quite... ahh… kinky, I believe is the word. Such a shame it is that you don’t get any royalties.” The man said, his lips in a smirk, daring him to get overly angry and make a scene.

She prayed for patience.

“We went to see it in Milan, I do believe they exaggerated the perfection of my teeth once again and my fondness for fucking teenagers inside a coffin.” It didn’t help the scenes had been too explicit and he had finished a whole pack of cigarettes in one go, brooding and complaining about lousy writing and fetishes.

But she had been able to gloat her _‘I told you so’_ once again so there was that.

“If I am to be made to choose on a kinky, gothic scenario, I’d much rather have the Countess on the floor of a crypt, more people watching that way if you know what I mean.” Dracula declared, his face a mask, revealing nothing.

They both choked at that and by the time Agatha had recovered the other had not, his hand clutching at his neck in an effort to swallow the alcohol that refused to continue its path. Consuming spirits wasn’t easy, as unused to it as they were.

It was quite the sight, for a dead being to be so flustered it looked alive.

People started to stare then and he grew hot in the cheeks, reaching an alarming colour until security escorted him to the loo where he could suffer without ruining the atmosphere. 

She put the ring she had pickpocketed from the lad on the pointer finger of her right hand, she’d been wanting it for some time, diamonds that big were her vice.

He looked at her, hands in his pockets, taller than normal with smugness, “If I hadn’t gotten the ring I’d be hitting you.”

“I assumed as much.”

She just _‘hmmmdd’_ non-committally in response.

When Margaret finally arrived to thank them for their company they noticed for the first time how much she looked like her ancestor, it wasn’t that they hadn’t _seen_ her, just never this _close_.

She often travelled the world, wasting her fortune on stupid things, her secretary was the one that kept everything running and this was the first time in a decade that she had hosted this event herself.

Everything about her was the same; a dead woman that had come back to life.

Both their mouths slightly agape and the grip of Agatha’s hand was too hard on the poor mortal’s one, threatening to break bone.

He snapped out the trance before her by a waiter that offered him rather persistently another glass, unsure for the first time in decades how to proceed. The girl just looked at them like they were high, but drew no further attention their way.

 _“Mina…”_ His wife whispered, eyes unblinking.

A crew would gather in the next few seconds if she didn’t let go, so he excused them both, blaming it on hard work and delicious alcohol. Staying after that wasn’t an option, there were few things in this world that shook their race as much and late daughters and sons were at the top of the list. It made for lousy lies too hard to rectify and mistakes that took too much time fix.

This, as it was, would need to be fixed and controlled by the nine.

With a nod he turned to one of the members of the Conclave, Sir Ian raised his glass in understanding. Three-quarters of their race had had children as humans, so it was something they understood and had a protocol for in case of finding a doppelgänger that threatened to break their reality, in public appearances and quiet instances.

Moments where their control slipped and the dam broke.

He was turning on the ignition of the car when she came back to her senses, “I don’t want to see her ever again.”

“Neither do I.” He agreed.

“She’s come closer than anyone to destroying centuries of hard work! That dim-witted, narcissistic, incapable child doesn’t deserve the skin she wears!”

“Agatha.”

“I’d rip it out, piece by piece if it weren’t Mina’s.”

_“Agatha!”_

She flinched, he rarely used that tone with her, she pinched her nose with her fingers until she was sure tomorrow it would bruise and looked at the road, imagining herself on a carriage chatting with someone too far gone.

“I didn’t mean it.”

“I know.”

“How can it hurt so much when it’s been centuries?”

“Because her engagement to Johnathan made us cross paths. Because she genuinely accepted us as creatures of the night, loved us despite that. Because she gave us a family, along with grandchildren… Because she was our child.”

Her hand on her chin, holding her face up as the world outside blurred into nothing, she whispered mournfully; “Mina shall always be the sun and the moon and the stars.”

╌

The moment she set her heeled foot on the marble someone launched themselves at her, the smell that radiated from the raven hair telling her it was none other than Tessa. She smiled, hugging her back just as tightly and they linked arms, walking in together, choosing a corner where to gossip and rant.

Her husband just winked at her and left for his group of friends, smiling charmingly at the many people that had the deference of calling him ‘Prince’, enjoying himself far too much in her opinion but it was well deserved. Some debauchery had never made much of a difference in the Vampire society.

They were stretching their legs in the garden just as the sun was coming out, but their enhanced senses told them something was not right. They closed their eyes, searched for blood other than their own, finding a mutated type of sort, woven in such a way that it immediately told them it was a mage.

Agatha’s eyes went completely black, even the white parts, every single sound stopping when she entered the room, Teresa hot on her heels, following her in complete silence, her gaze to the floor, for she knew exactly who her friend could become when faced with the type of people that once threatened to take Count Dracula away from her.

The Queen of Darkness was back and if provoked she might just burn the world to the ground.

Dracula knew, with that bond the two seemed to share, in his hand the necklace that was, in reality, an amulet, their official means of communication to the Council of Sorcerers, he pricked his finger with sharp fangs while the guests formed a circle around the three, waiting for something to happen.

Then the air shifted, blowing so strongly most of the women’s hair was a mess and various objects collided with the walls.

A portal opened and a woman that looked in her fifties stepped through, her presence was commanding, her gaze icy as she observed the people that filled the ballroom.

Some, including herself and Sir Ian, Tessa noted, prepared for a fight, to defend the couple, should the need arise.

Both races were never in the best of terms and the tentative alliance they had might just be broken with a rouge one spying the one night where every single member was in the same space.

“Your Highnesses.” The redhead said, bowing her head in deference.

“My wife caught a rogue one in the gardens of our home. I believe you know your apprentices are only protected from us as long as no one breaks any laws from the Accords, Rectoress.” The Vampire sneered.

“They were created with our best interests at heart, of course, I remember. I shall take this misguided boy and find out his plan of attack. I promise you that it shall take less than a month to take his group and the threat they pose to you, down.” The woman affirmed.

“You don’t have a month.” The Count didn’t even try to stop her, knowing how far gone she was.

“We shall give you two weeks, unless you want him executed and tortured, as is our right, on this very floor, as you watch.” Agatha demanded, somehow seeming like more of a threat than a woman that doubled her age.

“It seems excessive, even for a creature such as you.” So many people gasped, Tessa dare not count, many more assuming a fighting stance.

“A creature such as me, that has the same numbers of subjects as you. Only mine respect and care for me, for us both.” She circled the woman, like the predator she was, “Look at them, half are ready to tear your guts out at the very moment.”

“Perhaps if you did your job as a leader in a competent manner, instead of viewing your charges as beneath your worth, three-quarters of every generation would not abandon you and your precious school.” Her eyes radiated nothing but danger, her fangs present as she talked, “You’d be more powerful, with stronger numbers. Such potential would mean you wouldn’t have to fill your coffers through thievery.”

“What is your legacy? Pretty liquids in crystal bottle? Ancient books? How many of the people you raised have we killed for being as stupid as you? How much blood is in your hands? How many people would have flourished if you hadn’t neglected them?” The Princess teased, rubbing the cloth of the other’s dress between her fingertips, judging its worth.

“The next time you talk to me that way is the last day you have a seat at the Council and are Rectoress. Secrets are a powerful currency and you have many. He and I, we know them all.” She smiled, tilting her head to the side, “I will make sure you will die screaming for mercy, since your kind enjoy torture too, your creativity with it though, we lack. “

When the portal closed once again everyone was speechless, leaving for their rooms instead. Tessa waited until they all left and Agatha separated herself from her husband’s embrace, “You are my hero.”

The older woman hugged her and kissed her cheek, making her promise to stay for the rest of the week.

They arrived to the master bedroom far too fast and it took her about twenty minutes to ready herself for bed. When she lifted the covers she placed her head on his chest, calming herself with the beating of his heart.

“Countess Agatha, you are the only woman who deserves to reign by my side.”

“We’ve been good and fair, that’s what matters. Now go to sleep.”

And sleep they did.


End file.
